


UB Taskforce

by otterdictator



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series)
Genre: Dark, many champions, ultra beasts are dicks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-01 20:21:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8636839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/otterdictator/pseuds/otterdictator
Summary: When you rip open the doors between dimensions, you have to expect the worst.





	1. Chapter 1

The world is burning. 

Wild pokemon scramble desperately for safety, fleeing in terror from the gas and flames that consume the trees. 

In the chaos Nanu stands still. 

His earpiece crackles, voices relaying information about the attacking UB. The situation sounds grim, the invader identified as a Celesteela, and the local force is ill equip to deal with such a large UB. 

_"...mega charizard incoming..."_

The kahuna looks overhead, just catching a glimpse of orange-blue wings streaking towards the metal beast. A roar sounds out seconds later, followed by the unique whistle-hiss of high powered flames and the groans of warping metal. 

"Kahuna." A uniformed trainer materializes to his left, arm grasped by a gardevoir. "Please return to field HQ." 

He should go, but Nanu hesitates anyway. Part of him is loathe to leave the fighting to younger trainers, regional champions or not, but he is pragmatic enough to know his own team would provide little support in the current situation. 

The trainer holds out a hand. 

Nanu takes it and the world dissolves into light. 

XxXxXxX

_"...hate the large ones..."_

_"...was close!..."_

_"...-ere are the other fliers..."_

_"...for the left side-two more hits..."_

XxXxXxX

Field HQ appears in a swirl of color and sensation. The uniformed trainer and gardevoir are gone by the time that Nanu shakes off the last of the teleportation dizziness, likely off to retrieve someone else. 

The command tent looms ahead, pale cloth bright against the dark soil of the mountain side. He doesn't want to step inside it, to delegate the bloody task to fighting to others, to move trainers around like chess pieces while he stays safely away from all danger. 

But he is Kahuna and it is his duty to serve as commander of the Ula'ula UB taskforce.

He steps inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Tropical rain falls from the sky, warm and welcoming, steaming off the molten wreck that was once a 35 foot tall Celesteela. 

Exhausted trainers and pokemon are scattered around the beast's corpse. The battle was hard won, two trainers having lost pokemon and a third likely to retire due to injuries. 

Standing among the destroyed terrain Nanu feels nothing. 

_There is no place for softness in battle._

Guilt will come later when he is home and alone.

Now he has to rally his people and prepare for the next disaster. 

XxXxXxX

The after battle meeting is grim. 

"We barely took that thing down." One of the veteran trainers growls, hands restlessly clenching around thin air. "And in our current state we won't be able to deal with any other beast that shows up." 

"...well, we'll be able to handle a Nihilego, but not much else." Another trainer replies, eyes studying the after battle summary. The words detail a bleak image of how understaffed the Ula'ula taskforce is; not that the other islands are doing much better. There aren't many champion level trainers willing tie themselves to serving an island nation partially abandoned in the wake of the Aether Incident. 

_How have things come to this?_

Nanu swallows, this is an order that he never wanted go give. "Those of you with restricted pokemon, we need them on the field." 

"As a temporary thing?" One of the younger veterans asks uneasily.

_Everyone is desperate. How long can we keep this up?_

"No."

The trainers who are native Alolans look stricken, but do nothing to contradict his order. 

_How have things become so bad that we are willing to destroy Alola ourselves?_

XxXxXxX

_Something tells him to look toward the sea._

_He sees the bright blue-white of the explosion first, a burning beacon even in the brightness of the Alolan noon._

_A dull thump, like large drum being hit, comes next._

_An acrid gust of wind hits him last._

_Nanu's instincts scream a warning at him that something big and dangerous has happened. Minutes later his phone rings and informs him of what he dreaded._

_Aether Paradise is gone._

_And Ultra Beasts are pouring out from the building's smoking remains._


	3. Chapter 3

The first battle with the restriction lifted is a undeniable success. 

As are the following battles. 

It doesn't make Nanu feel any better. 

_My island or my people._

He can see the way that the environment is changing with each battle. The mountains slowly crumbling under the stress of pokemon used to using harder, more durable ground to attack. The confused growth and death of plants unused to being influenced by non-native grass types. The noticeable reduction of prey pokemon as foreign predators use strategies that they do not know how to defend against. 

_My island or my people._

It hurts. 

XxXxXxX

Night hunting is his domain.

Nanu's team has become skilled at taking down the UBs known as Buzzwole and Pheromosa. The UBs speed and strength are useless in the face of priority moves, dark-type trickery, and his team's preference for foul play.

It doesn't mean that he is ignorant to the glaring type disadvantage that his team has against those particular beasts. 

_When will this end?_

His persian meows daintily, shedding fine gray fur onto his pants, and pads toward the twitching body that was once a Buzzwole. The beast's carapace has caved inward, leaking fluid and other substances on the ground. His sableye's laughter echos through the night air, the little ghost flickering in and out of the shadows with each cackle. 

_I'm so tired._

Sharp cracks shake the kahuna from his thoughts, his persian's teeth breaking through tough shell, as the Buzzwole's head falls free of its body. The beheading is a precaution, though no one is sure how necessary it really is. 

"Buzzwole remains. Route 11." 

_"Clean up ETA is five minutes Kahuna."_

__Route 11 looks much the same as to how it was before the Aether Incident, but Nanu can hear the difference. The once lively nocturnal wildlife are still and quiet, leaving an almost oppressive silence instead. The kahuna isn't sure if the local pokemon are in hiding or simply gone._ _

__Nanu hasn't seen a komala in years._ _

__"Kahuna!" One of his trainers lopes out of the night trailed by a large typhlosion. A second trainer, veteran partner to the first, follows at a more sedate pace with garchomp in tow._ _

__He exchanges nods with the veteran trainer while the other ogles at the damaged Buzzwole. Once the body has been sufficiently gaped at the typhlosion's back flares before the pokemon sets to work burning the corpse to ash._ _

__"The scientists say that the portal is in a low energy state." The veteran states. "Next few days should be quiet ones." The garchomp gives a soft huff of agreement, yellow eyes trained on the slowly disintegrating body of the former UB._ _

__Nanu nods, delaying his answer in the few moments it takes to wrestle down irrational hatred and disgust at the mention of the former Aether Foundation scientists. Tempting as it is to blame the portal disaster on the scientists, it isn't solely their fault and the few survivors have worked hard to make amends, though they haven't discovered a way to close the portal yet._ _

__He is more than willing to blame the situation on Lusamine, though the portals themselves are a natural phenomenon in Alola._ _

___Might as well blame the sun for shining._ _ _

__"Light patrols then. Stay vigilant."_ _

__"Always Kahuna." The veteran looks thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe there'll be time to drink."_ _

__Nanu smirks, the smile bitter on his lips. "Only if we're lucky." If he's lucky he'll be able to drink enough to net more than an hour or two of sleep._ _

_Now isn't that depressing._


	4. Chapter 4

Even on the worst days Nanu has his cats. 

They always welcome him home, winding around his legs and demanding attention with sharp meows. 

They're the one bright spot in his life. 

They don't judge him for having insomnia or forgetting to eat. They don't look at him accusingly when one of his trainers has a breakdown and stays with him for a couple of days. They don't make demands that he cannot, or will not, fulfill. 

Nanu loves his cats. 

His collection of felines has only grown since the UB taskforce was created. In addition to his original clowder of Alolan meowths he now has:

\- A liepard from a retired taskforce member. 

\- Three littens from a litter bred by a new taskforce member. 

\- A very old standard persian. 

\- A delcatty adopted after its trainer was killed by UBs. 

\- One apparently normal espurr, though the kitten's thousand yard stare is unnerving even by Nanu's standards.

Nanu really loves his cats. 

"Muurpth?"

There is nothing quite as soothing as running his fingers through the soft coat of a cat on a quiet afternoon. 

XxXxXxX

Evening brings a nighttime hunt, one that Nanu is politely forbidden to join in on. 

The veteran trainers claim that the newer members need to have experience with tracking down UBs at night, but Nanu knows that they are really trying to keep him out of harm's way. It is almost endearing how protective his trainers are. 

Almost. 

It would be endearing if they didn't insist on keeping him company. 

The two longest serving trainers are lurking about his home doing their best to be unobtrusive while playing with his cats and keeping an eye on him. Their pokemon amble about, taking up what little free space there is and making it impossible for him to sneak out for a patrol. 

Nanu would be more irritated with the way his trainers are treating him if he hadn't nearly died on his last patrol. A Pheromosa kicked him and his persian off a cliff on Blush Mountain, only luck and a rescue by the very trainers in his home saved him and his persian from serious injuries. It only seems fitting to let them watch over him for a few nights in exchange for saving his pokemon and himself. 

"Whim!" A whimsicott coos at him and bounces into his lap, cuddling into his shirt with obvious happiness. The whimsicott's trainer looks up for a moment before continuing to pet one of his many meowths. A litten stands on the veteran's shoulder, playfully batting at the trainer's hair. The second trainer lies prostrate on the floor smothered under a living blanket of cats and their own pokemon. 

_This isn't so bad._

Nanu smiles.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think my grammer is wrong?

Nanu is bleeding. 

It's a shallow wound, but long and dangerously close to the arteries in his wrist. The Kartana that inflicted the injury lies burning on the ground, trampled under the hooves of a veteran's rapidash. 

"It'll need stitches Kahuna." The veteran looks worried, hands busily applying pressure and bandages to his left arm. "Please return to field HQ, we can handle the rest of the UBs on our own." 

"Alright. Stay safe." His persian comes tumbling out of the tall grass and tosses another of the origami UB at the rapidash, bloody drool dripping from its tongue. Nanu can hear an odd crinkling sound that comes from the Kartana as it is crushed and immolated by the horse's diamond hard hooves. 

"Always." The trainer and rapidash are gone quickly, off to catch more of the deceptively harmless looking UBs. The scent of burnt grass and earth waft through the air after the pair, mixing with the general acrid tinge of smoke that envelopes the entire area. 

"Muurooow." The large cat gives him a miserable look with mouth open, exposing tongue and inner cheeks covered with a number of shallow slices. The injuries are nothing life-threatening but clearly painful and provide ample reason to return to the field HQ at haste. 

Nanu might not care all that much about himself, but he does care a lot for his pokemon. 

"Shhh...we'll get you healed soon." 

XxXxXxX

It takes twenty stitches to close up Nanu's arm. 

His persian's mouth is healed with just a few swishes of a super potion based mouth wash. 

_How frail we humans are._

Luckily his injuries are the worst, a rare occurrence when dealing with the unnaturally sharp and agile UBs known as Kartana. A few of his trainers sport small cuts, but nothing requiring more than a quick clean with antiseptic. The reports from the quarantine zone where the UB hunt is occurring indicate that the mission should wrap up soon. 

Nanu is quietly grateful. 

XxXxXxX

_The air is thick with steam and the smell of cooking vegetation. Fire dances in the distance, flaring up in small clouds and long streamers._

_He can hear trees falling around him, severed by uncaring blades, branches crushed under many feet. Animal screams of pain and shock echo through the forest, mirrored by the steady flow of chatter from his ear piece._

_The grass **squishes** under his sandals._

_He looks down._

_Surprised eyes stare up at him, glazed over by death. It's one of his trainers, skin ash-pale in the weak forest sunlight, sprawled in pieces across the ground._

_He counts to four before he doubles over and retches, bile and acid and horror slithering from his mouth._

_Something glimmers, flashing brightly in the gloom. An origami piece, dripping blood, drifts gently through the air._

_It bursts into flames, flaking to ash, as a flareon stumbles out from the bushes. The pokemon is missing a hind leg, skin and flesh blistered raw by an emergency cauterization, and collapses next to the largest part of the dead trainer._

_By the time he gets to the flareon, it's already dead._

Nanu wakes up drenched in sweat. His arm throbs, sore and painful, as he scrambles off his couch.

He manages to make it to the bathroom before he throws up, sour and sharp and tasting like failure, tears burning at his eyes. 

It is going to be a bad night.


	6. Chapter 6

Pink. 

Pink and sparkles and shiny lights in every direction. 

It is almost enough to make Nanu think he is dreaming. Almost. 

The dying roars of a Guzzlord do a fine job of reminding him that the pink glitter storm he is experiencing is very much real. 

Of all the large UBs that the taskforce deals with, Guzzlord are viewed with a special kind of glee. Nanu's trainers find it soothing to attack a large, slow moving target with a double weakness to fairy-type attacks. Hence the swirling pink light show, which is really just multiple volleys of moonblasts and dazzling gleams. 

At least it is pretty, if one really likes the color pink. 

Nanu sighs and ambles away from the canyon that the taskforce lured the UB into. He isn't needed at the moment. 

This time, he's okay with that. 

XxXxXxX

Paperwork is the eternal curse of anyone in a position of authority. 

Requisition forms, medical forms, pay slips, mission reports, requests for time off, complaints, requests for more time in the field, resumes...everything and anything that can be typed up appears on Nanu's desk on an hourly basis. 

Especially the complaints. Dear Arceus the complaints. One would think that living on an island regularly threatened by Ultra Beasts would make the average citizen more grateful for the taskforce's intervention, but no. After every incident with UBs there is an endless barrage of whining about how the taskforce isn't doing a good enough job. 

For the sake of his own sanity, it is lucky that Nanu is far too jaded to care.

Though...for once the vast majority of the complaints aren't from the island's remaining citizens. 

The kahuna feels a chill run down his spine. Complaints from medical personnel are never good news. 

"...duct tape is not a substitute for abdominal surgery..."

"...Kahuna Nanu, please remind your subordinates that we are trained medical professionals and actually know what we are doing..."

"...'I feel fine' is not a valid reason to return to the field after being diagnosed with a concussion..."

"...6 weeks with no walking is not a suggestion..."

"...'I glued it together, I don't need stitches' means that stitches are still required when the glue fails..."

_Well, shit._

He might actually have to hold a meeting about listening to the medical staff. 

It is all too easy to imagine his boss from his days in the International Police laughing at him. 

May he be blessed with subordinates just like himself indeed.


End file.
